


Meantime

by diamondgore



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Dawn of X Spoilers, Established Relationship, F/M, Good Byes, House of X Spoilers, heavy skin on skin action, inappropriate use of warren's wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 03:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20828795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamondgore/pseuds/diamondgore
Summary: Warren and Betsy have a hard time letting go.





	Meantime

**Author's Note:**

> It's been so long since I've wrote something, I'm so sorry. 
> 
> This was inspired by Chappell Roan's [_Meantime_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SdOdzCMozoc).

Betsy was not asleep. She had her eyes tightly shut, as she could feel the weight of Warren’s legs on top of hers, his arms tightly binding hers. He wasn’t as heavy as she remembers he used to be, but the last time they were lying in bed together was five years ago. 

Warren was crying, due to a mutual agreement. The crying had started when Betsy feigned falling asleep. She was tired, but at the moment where she let her mind wander and her body relax, Warren started to cry, and she could not do anything about it but freeze in place. She was used to it, this sort of sadness from Warren, but she hated that she was the cause of it, and she couldn’t bare the thought of letting him know that she was awake through him sobbing. 

The space between Warren’s face and Betsy’s back was damp and hot, like a jungle in the summer. She could feel him press his face tighter to her back. He was just scared of letting go, and Betsy taking the legacy of her brother, taking her right to the family throne, meant more than just letting her go. They hadn’t been together in the traditional sense a little while, and now they wouldn’t be for another while. It was fine for them to cycle back and forth from being deeply in love to not being able to face each other in the morning. This was their reality, and they had accepted it a long time ago. 

Still, being pulled away from Betsy when it felt like things were finally going well still felt like being torn apart from the inside out. Warren would not be able to stop himself from crying even if Betsy had woken up. There wasn’t anything to stop him from crying, why would he anyway? Why would he deny himself the right to feel upset? This wasn’t fair, but nothing was ever fair, and both of them knew this. He wouldn’t take the Captain Britain mantel away from her, it was what she wanted, and it was also what she deeply deserved. Really, he could only take in his last few moments with her before she would leave to England in the morning. They both knew it would happen eventually, but neither of them felt the time would actually come, and it hit Warren much harder than it hit Betsy. 

They believed in things differently, Betsy believed in the fluidity of things and their uncertainty, while Warren believed in the permanence of everything. These differing schools of thoughts had caused more than their fair share of suffering, in their own separate ways. Betsy could wade through the sadness in hopes of happiness, and then crash during the happiness waiting for it to be taken away from her. Warren clung to blissfulness in the happiness, gripping onto it like a faltering-forever, and dwelled in the sadness, sinking his claws into it, afraid of letting it go.

Though, as his hot wet sobs became quieter, Betsy felt that it might be her chance to finally wake up. She moved her hand on top of his wrist, and gripped it tightly. She wished Warren would understand that sometimes, it was just as hard for her, as it was for him. It was so much harder for her to show her distress and vulnerability around him, around anyone really. 

“Warren?” Her voice was raspy, and dry despite her lack of sleep. “Are you awake?”

He sniffled in response. There was a cough, as if to clear his throat from phlegm that had built up. “Yeah, I’m awake.” 

“Are you okay?” Betsy asked. She thumbed his hand gently. 

“No.” Warren pulled her tighter, closer to his chest. He wanted to cocoon her in his wings to keep her safe. “Are you?” 

Betsy felt a laugh at the back of her throat, and she difused it as a slight chuckle. “No, but you know that.” 

Warren can’t help but snort, a slight sob mixed into it. Betsy let herself relax in Warren’s arms, even though his entire body was tense around her, maybe he’d relax if she did. Her hand is still on top of his, running her thumb on of the back of his hand. Warren’s moved his head, placing it right in the nook of Betsy’s neck. His breath is warm, and his face still feels wet from the tears. She can feel him shake a little from the crying. 

“Sorry, I’m just not used to it. This whole thing. It feels like we fell apart too quickly,” Warren whispered, “I can’t wrap my head around it.”

“I’m not dying, you know.” Betsy said, hushed, to match Warren’s tone. “I’m just going to be…” 

“Captain Britain, thousands of miles away from me.” 

Betsy broke out of his tight grip, and sat up. Defensively, Warren wrapped his arms around himself, he was always afraid of being open for attack. “Warren, we decided—”

“I know. I know we decided that you should go, that this is what’s best. What’s best is for us is to not be together.” Warren pushed himself upright. He shuffled momentarily to adjust his giant wings behind him, and despite him being careful they still knocked off something from the nightstand. He did not touch Betsy, and had his hang linger a few inches away from hers. “What’s best for you is to save the world. What’s best for me is to stay here. What’s best for us, is not each other. I don’t like it, though.” 

Even in the darkness of the room, barely lit up by the outside lights, Betsy can see the tears that dried up on his face. She can still see how much concern he had for her. “I don’t like it either. I know you don’t believe it, but I don’t like being away from you.” 

“Likewise.” Warren leaned in closer, brushed his hand against her hair. “I only want for you to be happy, kid.” 

Betsy held his wrist, pulled his hand closer to her cheek, letting him touch her skin. “You too, cherub, but you know you’re going to be miserable waiting for me. If you can find someone who’s willing to give you what you want, why should I stand in your way? We’re almost forty, and if you want a family—”

“Why do you keep acting like you’re not enough for me? I don’t need that to be happy. Bets, I’d wait in hell or in heaven for you.” 

“But I don’t want you to wait,” 

“But I’ll wait. For eternity, in another dimension, wherever.” Betsy’s lips curl into a soft smile. The lights from the roads light her face up. “Always, Betsy, I’ll be waiting for you.” 

“You say such cruel things to me, Warren.” Betsy wished she could reciprocate the sentiment, but she can still remember Fantomex at the back of her mind, he felt like hot betrayal. “You’re awful.” 

“It’s just the truth.” Warren smiled too, his is a large grin that spread over his face like a child’s. “No matter what.” 

Despite the smile, Warren was still trying to hide a few tears from his face. “You are a good man.” 

“And you are a good woman.” Betsy moved closer to him, pulling her blankets with her. “You would wait for me, too.” 

Her lips parted open, but only for her to kiss Warren. They promised each other they’d show each other no more than the barest shreds of intimacy, but it seemed that plan was set up for failure since the beginning. They moved: hands on each other’s hips, breasts, and abdomen. They touched each other like they both had holy scripture on their skin, gentle, flighty touches. Warren extended all ten meters of his wingspan, not caring for the damage they caused, only wanting to be engrossed in the moment. Betsy only laughed into Warren’s mouth as she heard things crash into the ground. She pressed her own hot breath on the corners of his lips. She pressed him into the bed, his wings fluttering underneath him, as he tried to find a comfortable position. 

They kissed, until they grew tired of it. Then, Betsy laid her head down on top of Warren’s chest softly listening to the beat of his heart like it was only song to exist. Warren had propped himself up so that he could wrap a wing around her, to cover her and to keep her safe. He wanted to keep her here, if only for a moment, if only for a little while.

And Betsy wanted that too. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to find me on twitter [sophiecuckoos](https://twitter.com/sophiecuckoos), or on my curiouscat [globherman](https://curiouscat.me/globherman)!


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